


A Second Shade of Life

by Mardiaz173



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Merlin, Canon Era, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Necromancy, Protective Merlin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2019-10-10 11:49:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17425334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mardiaz173/pseuds/Mardiaz173
Summary: In the middle of Merlin telling Gwen about Sir John’s Great Aunt Petronilla that had decided to stay with him and was currently driving him mad, according to Sir John when Arthur and his knights went on patrol, Merlin’s gut twisted and the hair on the back of his neck rose. He cut himself off and started running.





	1. Chapter 1

Arthur flourished under the sunlight. His sword glistened and his golden hair glowed. Merlin knew he should pay more attention to the restitching of Arthur’s blue tunic and that Arthur’s amusement would be endless if he heard Merlin’s train of thought. That didn’t negate the truth of it. Times like these, when Arthur fought four of his knights at once (with only a small amount of showmanship and bravado) and still found time to train and correct them, Merlin’s faith in his prince knew no bounds. He could see the future and the king Arthur will bring to it. 

Merlin turned back to his stitches. The Pendragon House bore red and gold and Arthur wore those colors vibrantly, but Merlin held soft affection for Arthur’s blue tunic. Enough to take more care than usual when he fixed it. He thanked Gwen, too. When he first arrived at Camelot and took the position of Arthur’s manservant, he knew nothing about laundry and clothes-mending. Gwen had taught him as slowly and patiently as he required with barely any annoyance. He stabbed and slashed his fingers tirelessly for a week but now his stabbings were minimal and his stitches near neat. 

Arthur’s knights whooped. They dispersed from a circle they were gathered in around Arthur, some heading towards the water bucket and others towards the trees by the edge of the field. Arthur returned to Merlin, wiping the bottom of his shirt across his forehead and down his cheek. 

“Merlin, get me some”一Merlin picked up the cool waterskin on the bench next to him and handed it to Arthur一” … water. Nice initiative.” Merlin smirked, returning to Arthur’s tunic, and Arthur sat down next to him, their arms brushing. “Don’t mess that up,” he said, nudging Merlin’s elbow. “It’s one of my better shirts. The Gods only know what happened to the last one after you decided to ‘mend’ it.” 

Merlin knew Arthur would continue with his underhanded quips until Merlin gave him attention. He reminded Merlin of a child really. All Merlin’s attention had to revolve around Arthur and if it didn’t, he prodded and poked until Merlin had no choice but to address him. It flattered Merlin oddly. 

“You can mend it yourself if my skills aren’t up to your standards, sire.”

Arthur scoffed. “Sewing is woman’s work, Merlin.”

Merlin turned to Arthur, raising an eyebrow. “You suture wounds,” he pointed out.

“Yes, suture, not sew.”

“It’s the same.”

“No. Suturing is for gashes and battle wounds. Sewing is for clothes and women.” 

“I know Gaius has told me to help him sew up a wound.”

“Perhaps Gaius doesn’t understand there is a distinction between一”

“Between nothing, Arthur. You can sew up a wound and you can stitch up clothes.”

“Why are you arguing with me? I’m the one with an education.”

“And what a fine example of your schooling that you are. They are the same thing!” 

“They are not!”

“Really? So, you tell me that because women only sew up clothes and masculine knights, such as yourself一”

“一Naturally,” Arthur interrupted nodding. 

“一only suture wounds, your stitching isn’t woman’s work?” 

“Of course.”

“Then when a woman sutures a wound, as Gwen has done many times, is that not man’s work?”

“It is.”

Merlin stared at him. “So, a woman can do man’s work, but a man can’t do woman’s work?”

“Yes.”

“Then what am I doing right now?”

“Woman’s work.”

Merlin broke. “You ridiculous, ridiculous man,” he sighed, barely reigning in a smile. “You condescending, arrogant prat. You一” he trailed off. 

Arthur smirked, far better pleased with himself than he had a right to. Merlin knew Arthur’s pride in ability to endear himself to Merlin should cause embarrassment and slight annoyance, but all Merlin knew was affection. He wanted to kiss Arthur more than anything. And it read on his face because Arthur stroked the inside of his wrist and ruffled his hair (the only physical affection they could get away with in public) before he winked at Merlin as he returned to his knights. 

That evening, with Merlin, post-coital and redressed, curled over Arthur’s chest, he conceded to the urge, pressing chaste and reverent kisses to Arthur’s neck and the underside of his jaw. Arthur had asked for Merlin to show him magic and Merlin’s magic lept to oblige him. His fireplace roared and the flames curled into a bold, familiar dragon. The Pendragon crest. A golden dragon that glided across the room, showering down sparks of embers that turned soft when they hit Arthur’s floor and bed. It perched itself on Arthur’s arm; the one splayed lazily on Arthur’s bed and not wrapped around Merlin’s waist.

The dragon disintegrated and Merlin trailed his kisses up to Arthur’s cheekbones. He held himself up; his palms placed wide on Arthur’s bare chest and his knees planted on the bed between Arthur’s legs. “Merlin,” Arthur huffed unconvincingly. “Enough.”

Merlin nuzzled Arthur’s nose with his own and Arthur wrapped his free hand around the side of Merlin’s face. He thumbed over Merlin’s lips before kissing them. Merlin’s chest blossomed with joy and he hummed into Arthur’s kisses, trying to keep himself from smiling too wide to break them. Eventually, they both stopped and moved to sleeping positions. They were on their sides with Arthur’s arm still around Merlin’s waist and his other one under Merlin’s neck. 

They slept well: Merlin only once kicked Arthur awake to stop him from snoring too loudly, resulting in Arthur turning away from Merlin to face the other direction. Merlin then turned him back and rewrapped Arthur’s arm around his waist. 

***

Gwen pulled Arthur’s blue tunic taut. She examined Merlin’s stitches by lower torso. “They’re not bad,” she decided. “Really, they’re not.”

“Not as good as yours,” Merlin pointed out, perched on Arthur’s desk. He swung his legs back and forth like an energized child. 

Gwen rolled her eyes. “I’ve been stitching since I was a little girl and sewing up Morgana’s clothes since I was thirteen. If I wasn’t better than you, I would be out of a job, Merlin.”

Merlin scoffed. “Morgana would never.”

“I don’t think she would, no,” Gwen replied, her lips curling into a faint smile. “But when I was younger, the King never would have let me stay in her household if I hadn’t been able to do my job right.”

“I’m still working for Arthur and the whole castle knows how terrible I am, including Uther,” Merlin countered, messing around the papers on Arthur’s desk to prove a point. “Besides Arthur and Gaius, he mentions it the most, in fact.”

Gwen laughed. “One, you’re getting much better at your job,” she insisted. “Two, the affection Arthur holds for you is much more visibly apparent than the affection Morgana holds for me.”

“You’re underselling yourself, Gwen,” Merlin said, ignoring the blossoming pride in his chest at Arthur’s ‘visibly apparent’ affection for him. “Everyone knows how much Morgana adores you, too. She yelled at Arthur to rescue you after you two were attacked even though Arthur was going to anyway, and remember when you were accused of sorcery? Morgana had to be restrained.”

Gwen’s face turned as red as one of the red tulips in the gardens outside. “I know how much she cares for me, never fear, Merlin. Morgana’s caring is more subtle, though, because Morgana speaks out against everything. Usually, Arthur is too composed to disagree with his father in public.”

Merlin huffed. “Alright, alright, enough about them.” He held out his hand so Gwen could return Arthur’s tunic to him and jumped down from the desk. “Before I asked about my stitches, you were to tell me about Beatrice and Felicia down in the kitchens.”

Brightening, Gwen handed over the tunic. “Oh yes! Did you hear what happened between the two of them? They haven’t spoken for ages and I thought it was perhaps because Sir Eustace had shown interest in the both of them, but Beatrice it seems is married and一”

They spoke for a while with Gwen mending one of Morgana’s dresses at one of the chairs at Arthur’s eating table (Merlin remembered how long it took him to convince her it was alright) and Merlin pattering around the room, scrubbing the floors and then shining some of Arthur’s boots. In the middle of Merlin telling Gwen about Sir John’s Great Aunt Petronilla that had decided to stay with him and was currently driving him mad, according to Sir John when Arthur and his knights went on patrol, Merlin’s gut twisted and the hair on the back of his neck rose. He cut himself off and started running. 

Gwen followed behind him, shouting and worrying, until Merlin pushed open the unguarded council doors. The chambers were in an uproar; the guards clamored to reach a standing woman as the king’s voice thundered throughout the room. Merlin payed them small attention.

On the ground, several steps away from the standing woman and circled around by the knights and advisors, directly in front of the steps of the king’s throne, lay Arthur. 

Still.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur was cold, pulled onto Merlin’s lap as he knelt on the ground. His golden hair lay limp across his paling forehead and his chest remained motionless underneath Merlin’s palm. Merlin’s soft pleas called to dead ears. “Arthur, c’mon, wake up, wake up, Arthur, please一”

Besides Merlin stood King Uther, proud and enraged, as the guards restrained the witch in the chambers. He watched as Gaius approached Merlin, who cradled Arthur gently and shifted to make room for Gaius’ expert hands. Gaius obliged, kneeling down next to Merlin and holding one backhand over Arthur’s still mouth and one of Arthur’s wrists in the other hand. Gaius dug his hand in Arthur’s wrist harder after a moment. 

He then stood as Merlin still clutched and pleaded to Arthur. “He is dead, sire,” Gaius declared. 

Merlin looked at Gaius’ grave face. “What? No,” he said determinedly, shaking his head and glancing at Arthur. “No,” he repeated to the king. 

Uther glanced at Arthur and then the witch. The guards held her arms tightly behind her. She stared at Arthur unfazed, tall and proud in her chains. “Bring back my son, witch,” Uther snarled, “and I will kill you quickly.”

The witch tilted her head. “Magic does not work like that, Uther Pendragon,” she declared. “A life for a life. Balance must be kept.”

Merlin found himself being pulled from Arthur. Gwen cooed behind him, “C’mon, Merlin.”

Merlin shook his head again, holding tight enough to Arthur to cause himself pain. He curled over Arthur and pushed back the bangs over Arthur’s forehead. “No.”

“Merlin, c’mon. This is inappropriate, please.”

“No, no,” Merlin insisted. “I won’t leave him.” 

Gwen grabbed Merlin’s arm and pulled him away as a frustrated noise tore from Merlin’s throat. He threw himself back to Arthur. “Merlin, the council is staring,” Gwen begged shakily, pulling harder.

“No!”

Another pair of hands grabbed his other arm. “Merlin, that’s enough,” Gaius warned. Him and Gwen tugged hard, ripping Merlin, protesting and adamant, from Arthur and dragging him towards the council door. The king continued shouting at the witch, the only sane man, Merlin found, in the room. “My son!” he howled. “Bring him back! Now!” 

“I cannot,” the witch said. 

As quick as a viper, Uther backhanded her and the smack echoed throughout the hall. “Get her to the dungeons,” he recovered roughly. “And then leave us.”

Nobody moved. 

“Out!” the king roared. 

His advisors scurried out, frightened and grieving, along with the guards that dragged the witch to the cells. Gwen, tearful, and Gaius, solemn, continued to pull Merlin, silent now but no less stubborn, from the chambers. He refused to look from Arthur until the doors slammed shut in Merlin’s face, tearing Arthur, goldenhaired and still and slowly being picked up by his father, from Merlin’s view. They then dragged Merlin up the tower to Arthur’s chambers with Morgana following stoically.

Gaius and Gwen pushed Merlin into Arthur’s chambers and onto his bed. Gaius adjusted his ragged robes. “Careful, Merlin,” he insisted, glancing at the doorway. Though his words were reproachful, his tone was gentle. He sighed and pulled Merlin’s head to his chest tightly.

Merlin shook his head and peaked from under Gaius’ arm to look at Gwen and Morgana. They stood by the chamber doors as Morgana’s blank mask ruptured as she cried into Gwen’s shoulder. Now that Merlin was away from the council chambers and Arthur and the witch, he found his thoughts clearing. Gaius rubbed at his shoulders to comfort, but Merlin pushed him away. “What happened?” Merlin asked calmly. 

“Merlin,” Gaius sighed.

“What happened?” Merlin asked again. Though his terror and panic were subsiding, he felt no less confused. In fact, his confusion crept higher; Gwen and Morgana were curled together and crying and Gaius was slumped defeatedly. 

They were grieving, Merlin realized suddenly. Though it felt awfully quick for them to start so soon. Arthur was not in the ground yet. The witch who attacked him was barely locked away. Without Arthur cold and uninviting in Merlin’s arms, he found himself thinking.

The witch was alive, spared from a quick death by the king’s temper and quick-thinking. The king had told the guards to lock her up and the king would deal with her. She could fix Arthur. She knew the spell she cast on him. She could help him. Were he and Uther the only ones who realized that? 

Soft cries were still audible from Morgana and Gwen. 

“Gaius, what happened?” Merlin repeated once more. 

“The witch attacked in the middle of the meeting,” Gaius replied softly. “She aimed for the king, but Arthur stepped in front of him. And then he fell.”

“Is that all?” Merlin asked. 

“That is all.” Gaius reached for his arm, but Merlin pushed him away. “Merlin.”

“Where were the guards? How did she get in? Was none else there?” 

Gaius peered at Merlin closely. “Try as we might, steel and old men are rarely useful against witchcraft.”

“Then, what did she say? What spell did she use?” 

“Merlin, what is going through your head?”

Merlin had never felt so confused and angry in all his life. “My head?” he repeated hotly. “What is going through my head? What is going through yours? Uther said it himself, she can fix him! She can reverse her spell!”

“Arthur is not ensorcelled, Merlin! He’s dead!” 

“He is not! He can’t be! It isn’t his time! How could she just kill him instantly? No pain, no time, just death? This isn’t that, Gaius. It cannot be.”

“It’s not impossible.” 

Merlin shook his head. “No — this isn’t — you’re wrong!” 

“Merlin,” Gaius said. 

“No,” Merlin snarled. “I’m not going to sit here with the three of you crying. I will not abandon him. There has to be something! I will make her bring him back myself!” He made sure to slam the door when he left. 

*** 

Gaius’ library on necromancy was a thin one. It consisted of four total books, each of which was just over two-hundred pages, and a small scroll. They were masqueraded as alchemy, but Merlin knew they were sorcery. 

He had torn through the Physician Chambers, stolen these five items, and then locked himself in his room for the rest of the day. The witch had attacked barely three hours after dawn and the others had left him alone for hours until now. 

Gaius closed the door behind him gently. “Even if there were books that could help you, Merlin, they wouldn’t be found here,” he said. 

Merlin ignored him. It was the second time he was looking through some chronicler’s book on Lord Aeron in one of the northern kingdoms, a nobleman who sanctioned and participated in sorcerous experiments, and it was a laborious enough task to decipher the small writing without Gaius distracting him. 

“These are not natural cures, Merlin,” Gaius continued. “They are resurrections, and the resurrected are never whole. Life and death come with a price, you know this.”

“Get out.”

Gaius sighed. “There is nothing for you—”

“Get out.” Merlin flicked his hands towards Gaius and the door behind him opened with a great bang. Merlin didn’t look up from his book. “I don’t want to make you, Gaius.” 

Gaius obliged. 

***

Few hours later, by late afternoon, Merlin had found nothing in his novels of necromancy that could be of any use to him, which solidified his theory that this wasn’t to be Arthur’s fate. If they couldn’t resurrect him whole, how was he supposed to rule? Merlin had turned to scriptures on vegetative states, but without knowing the incantation nor what the spell even looked like, they held nothing for him. 

He was off his bed and about to open the door to his chambers when someone else opened it instead. On the other side stood Gwen, her face blotchy and red and her eyes puffy and wet. 

“You should be attending Morgana,” Merlin said. 

Gwen adjusted her dress. “She dismissed me and I wanted to come to you.”

“For what?”

“Company.” Gwen’s lips twitched almost into a smile. “I thought you could use some.”

“I don’t want any.” Merlin dismissed, turning away from her. “And you don’t want to give me any. You just want your own.”

“Merlin,” Gwen huffed. 

Merlin continued, “Morgana dismissed you because she wanted to grieve on her own, but you don’t want that. You want another to grieve with and that you can help with their grief. I am not doing that with you, Gwen.”

“I just”一Gwen looked as if Merlin had struck her, indignant and hurt一“I thought you might want a friend right now.”

“I am not grieving,” Merlin snarled. “There is nothing to grieve. Arthur isn’t dead.” Gwen’s face melted from indignation to pity. A look that had the anger in Merlin’s chest then boiling. “Find someone else to comfort, Gwen,” he spat and she left the door open behind her. 

***

Merlin was pacing when Morgana finally entered. Her face barely betrayed her; her pale skin was smooth and faultless and her eyes were white and dry. The only clues to her grief and sadness were the tears clumped together in her lashes, making her lashes shine and slightly smudging her makeup above her lash line. “You didn’t have to be so rude to Gwen,” she said softly. 

“Now, you’re concerned about Gwen,” Merlin scoffed. He sat down on his bed. “You weren’t so concerned when she needed comfort, were you? You were concerned about your persona more.”

Morgana went silent and still, as she did when she was particularly vexed. “You know,” she started, narrowing her eyes, “for only his servant, you’re acting as if you hold the rights to be chief mourner, Merlin.”

“I am not mourning,” Merlin spat, even if he disagreed. He loved Arthur more and cared for his happiness more than anyone else in this damned castle, that Merlin knew. He never tried to force him into unions for the good of the kingdom nor did he try to pressure Arthur to help build character. “You all could mourn. You all could cry and do nothing. I’m not going to do nothing!”

“Oh, and what is there to do? What do you know that the rest of us don’t?” Morgana demanded. “Gaius and Gwen said to leave you alone so that you realize Arthur’s not coming back in your own time, but you plan to stay in denial. Well, he’s not coming back! It’s not possible, Merlin!”

“You don’t know that!” Merlin shouted. “None of you do! You are all ready to move on so quick!”

“It’s not moving on to accept reality! No one is saying to pretend everything is alright, but you sitting here and researching in your illegal tombs一and the gods only know where you found them!一is doing nothing for any of us! No one likes false hope!”

“It’s not false! I don’t want to talk with you, Morgana. Get out.”

“You don’t want to talk to anyone, Merlin,” Morgana cried. “That’s your problem. We all want to comfort you, but you’re making it awfully hard. You act as if we’re sinful for accepting the truth.”

“Because you haven’t even tried an alternative!” Merlin huffed. “Go away, Morgana!”

Unlike the others, Morgana slammed the door when she left. 

***

The moon was high when Gaius entered again. Merlin had alternated between screaming in frustration and writing in ink all over Gaius’ books. He took notes and reworded spells, but he found nothing. Nothing still and nothing more. 

Merlin didn’t wait for Gaius to speak. “None of you understand that I want to be left alone!” he snarled as he leapt from his bed. “The sun hasn’t even risen once without him and you want me to accept he’s dead? Have none of you an ounce of loyalty at least?”

“Merlin,” Gaius said. His voice was quiet yet urgent. He held his hands together in his sleeves as normal, but his face looked stunned. 

Merlin froze. “What else has happened?”

“We found Ygraine Pendragon. Alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for all the responses for the first chapter! They were all very sweet! I know this one may seem a bit choppy and short and they'll probably stay that way for a bit, but they will grow longer. Thanks for the all support once again! You're all very nice!


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